


Tuna is a Word Kittens Love

by a_xmasmurder



Series: Kittens in a Warzone [3]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Battlefield Boyfriends, Both men are toppy, Dirty Talk, Little bit of angst, Lotta bit of Porn, M/M, Mention of knifeplay, Rimming, Shades of domination, This is wank, Tuna - Freeform, and Kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kittens love tuna. This is a fact.</p><p>John Watson loves fucking Scott McIntyre. This is also a fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuna is a Word Kittens Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lestradesexwife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lestradesexwife/gifts).



> John Watson/OC. If this isn't the droids you were looking for, carry on. I'll forgive you for not reading my wank sessions ;)

 

The last spoonful of what tried to pass as linguini and sauce but failed miserably stared up at Watson from the tray. He stared right back at it, willing it to try something, anything, to make his day a little less...argh.

“You know, it’s not going to give up.” McIntyre plopped his tray down across from Watson and stabbed his fork into his chicken. “Mainly because it doesn’t have eyes, so it can’t know that you are having a staring contest with it.”

“It’s pissing me off.” Watson dropped his spoon, letting it clatter to the Formica table. “It’s trying to be noodles and sauce, and at best it’s reminding me of Jensen’s intestines.”

Scott swallowed the mouthful of meat, and pushes his plate away. “Well, that just put me off my food.”

“Yeah. Tends to do that.”

“So, you were on that call, huh?”

Captain stared at Captain. “Yeah.”

“Did they live?”

John nodded wearily. “And will continue living, even minus parts. Which is possibly why I was able to choke down some of this disgusting quasi-food.” He pushed his tray away. “You know, the human body is just fascinating, Scott. Normally, a machine can’t do without certain parts. Even redundant system parts are necessary. If they don’t have the parts, they don’t run at all. At best, you get a warning signal that something’s wrong, at worst the damn thing craps out on you and refuses to run ever again.” He shook his head. “Not the human body. You can still function without your eyes, without hearing or speaking. You can live with half a liver, one kidney, and artificial valves in your heart. You can regulate that heart with an artificial pacemaker, a little battery in your chest. You can give it artificial joints and even remove the appendages. You can take out the spleen altogether and not even worry about it. You can take skin from your arse and put in on your arm with few problems, hell, you can even take skin from another person and put it on you with few problems.” He stared at Scott with an enthusiastic light in his eyes. “You can even take out half the processor, the brain, and still have some sort of function. You can’t do that with a car, a computer, a food processor...” His voice trailed off as he looked at a point on the beige wall. “The human body is a wonder, a marvel of natural engineering and mechanics.” He looked down at the table, his eyes turning dark and angry. “And something as simple as putting a bunch of scrap metal into a pipe and attaching it to some explosives can utterly destroy that marvel.”

Scott nodded, not risking his voice right then. John didn’t need a voice to tell him that everything was going to be fine. He needed to talk, to get the poison out.

“And there are people like me, who are trained to put people back together, who have to deal with the aftermath of these devices. We have to patch these boys and girls back together, we have to remove limbs to avoid gangrene, we have to remove parts to make the rest of the body whole again.” He sighed. “And God help me, I love it. I love making the human body work again.” He stared at his tray. “But I can’t even eat after some of these operations, because food disgusts me. Sometimes I just want to drink myself stupid.”

Scott nodded again.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it, but then I look at someone that I just saved, and I look down at myself, covered in their blood, and I just...” John dropped his head down to his forearm and sighed heavily. “I am reminded that I’m here, and I have a job to do.”

“Sounds like you need to get laid.”

John jerked his head back up, an incredulous and amused look on his face. “Is that all you got from that?”

“You are frustrated and upset and angry and in love with the human body and this war, as fucked up as that sounds.” Scott smiled. “You need to get drunk or get laid. One or the other, or both. Doesn’t matter to me, as long as it includes me.”

“Oh my God.” John dropped his head again and laughed raggedly into his forearm. “Scott, you are a fuckslut, you know that, right?” He made sure to say that quietly.

“Of course I am. Have I ever lead you to believe differently?” Scott chuckled with him, immensely happy that he got the man to smile again.

“What are you even doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t off yourself to spite your commanding officers? Or do you mean in the big picture?” Scott smirked.

“No, I mean...what happened to Sangin?”

The Marine waved his fork limply. “Oh, everyone’s on leave for a while, couple weeks at least. We lost a couple guys, not my squad, but it still smarts, because...well, you know.” John nodded mutely. “Forty-Two’s got Sangin until we get back, then they get to go for a break.”

“So instead of going home with the others, you chose to stick around here.” John swallowed the last bit of his water, wishing it was a bit of vodka. He cleared his throat. “With me.”

Scott’s brows scrunched together, and he wrinkled his nose. “Well, yeah!”

“You have a wife, Scott.”

“Yes. You were there when that happened.” The marine folded his hands in front of him. “I, uh...I told her about your transfer, and how you have been taking it...which is horribly, by the way.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

“Anyway, she called me up the other day, just before everyone popped off, and told -”

“Told you to stay here with her ex-boyfriend and your current fuck buddy to make sure he didn’t kill himself out of spite and rage.”

“That about sums it up, yeah.”

Watson shook his head. “Oh, brilliant. Someone’s looking out for me, at least.”

“Oh, come off it.” McIntyre threw his serviette at him. “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like that. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t worry about me. I don’t, nor ever will, plan on offing myself. That’s just...dull. Not smart, and useless at that. Like I said, I have a job, and like you said, I love it here.” John smiled, and grabbed Scott’s hand. “Thank you for being here, but the next leave you get, you are getting your fuckin’ arse on a plane headed to Taunton, you read me? You are going to go back to that base, and you are going to grab Sue and fuckin’ snog her until her toes curl, and then you are going to kiss her again and tell her that the first one was from me. Then you are going to shag her like I’m going to shag you tonight, if I don’t have any call outs.”

“Yes, sir.” Scott’s eyes grew dark and mischievous. “Yes, motherfuckin’ SIR.”

[](971038)  
  


 

[](971038)  
  


John managed to swipe a couple cans of tuna from the mess kitchen without getting caught by Mark, and he and Scott made their way back to the cupboard that Watson called home - what could only pass as home on base. The kittens were nowhere to be found, though, which saddened Scott a bit, judging by the look on his face. John smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. Watch this.” He set the cans down, and rustled around in his kit for the can opener. He clicked it open, set it on the first can, and suddenly four kittens materialized around the can, yowling in delight and impatience. Scott blinked and grinned widely.

“Where the bloody blue fuck did they come from?”

John shook with laughter. “I have no clue, but they are dusty and this is my life, now.” He closed the opener around the rim and started opening the can. The yowling turned deafening. “I used to kill people. Now I patch people up and feed my adorable kitten babies tuna filched from the mess hall. I’m the crazy cat lady, now, you know that? Someone found out that I have kittens, and now I’m the nutter down the road with thirty cats and no clothes. I eat cat food and stand around naked, calling for my kitties. That is what I do.”

“Oh, my God.” Scott plucked up Dick, who hissed and swatted at his face. “Now, now, Dick, don’t be all hateful. Let me pet you.” Another hiss, and a claw hooked into his BDU shirt. “Dick, really? Why do you hate me so?”

John kept laughing as Kali and Billie tried to lap up the tuna water spilling out of the can as he opened it. “Wait, hold on guys, you’re going to cut open your little tongues and then I’ll have to stitch you up, and you won’t like that - Hello, Sarge!” Sarge had velcroed himself to John’s shirt and climbed up to his broad shoulder. He now perched there and voiced his levels of starvation and impatience into John’s ear. “Yes, I know, I’m hurrying, I can only go so fast - Billie! Get your paw out of that can now or so help me you will be eating bread soaked in water for the rest of your short life. Out!” He swatted at the ball of orange fur, and she hissed at him. “I don’t care. You don’t need to do that, I’ve got plates for you, see?” He pointed at the desk, where the little mess tins still sat from breakfast. “Paws out of the tuna.”

“Oh, my God, John, you are horrible!” Scott shook his head. “You do sound like the crazy cat lady, talking to those kittens like that.” John flipped him off and continued opening the can.

Kali peered up at him and mewed in the most adorable half voiced squeak either man had heard before, patiently waiting for her share. John smiled down at her. “And look at you! You are the perfect example of good manners, Kali. You are a good girl, yes you are!” He finished the can and pried the lid away. Sarge nibbled on his ear. “Oi, Sarge, that’s only for Scott to do. You do not nibble on my ear!”

Scott broke into giggles and finally gave up on trying to tame Dick. “Yeah, that is my job, isn’t it? God, I feel like I have to punch the wall or walk out into the middle of a firefight starkers with a machine gun in order to feel manly again.” He set the ornery kitten down, only to watch him launch himself onto the desk and swat Kali. “No, don’t do that, Dick!”

Sarge yowled and jumped down into the tuna can to nip at Dick, and John groaned. “Now see what you did, Dick? You made Sarge step in the tuna can!”

After berating his wayward brother, Sarge set to work cleaning the tuna water off of his puffy tail and hind leg. Kali walked over to her dish and sat, mewling. Dick swatted his dish to the floor and bit Kali’s tail. Billie flipped hers upside down, sat on it, and yowled up at John as he stuck a spork into the tuna. He dished Kali’s up first, then retrieved Dick’s and filled that one, then shooed Billie off hers and filled it. Sarge’s was last, but John didn’t even get to that one because the orange tabby latched onto his hand and stuck his face into the can to start munching away with little yowls and growls to warn off his brother and sisters.

“Well, that’s that, then.” John huffed out a happy chuckle and left them to it, which was a good thing because Scott was at his back, face buried in the crook of his neck, the Marine’s lips pressing up against his pulse. “Oh, that feels good. Yes, that...oooh, _gorgeous._ ” John groaned and grabbed the back of Scott’s neck to trap him there as the man started nipping up and down the thick tendon, leaving little red marks in a trail that led up to John’s ear. Once there, Scott breathed softly through his nose as he sucked the lobe between his teeth.

“I’m all yours tonight, love. All yours. You can have me any fuckin’ way you want me.” He growled deep in his chest when John rocked his hips and arse back into his groin, brushing up against his quickly hardening cock. “Oh, you can have me on this floor, dusty and sweaty and quick, ramming hard into me, make me come without even touching my prick; you can have me on the fucking desk so that you can look at me while you are rutting against me, you can bite my neck and mark me all to hell and back while I beg you to fuck me.” John whined in arousal, and Scott bit the shell of his ear. “You can take me on the fuckin’ bed, my knees on the ground, I’ll have to bite the sheets to keep from screaming your fuckin’ name, John. Would you like that? I think you would.” He pushed his hands down to John’s waist, where his shirt was tucked in, and yanked it out, digging his fingers down into the khaki camouflage trousers to press into his iliac crest.  

John bit off a growl and dropped his head back against Scott’s shoulder. “You little shit,” he breathed. “You little fuckslut.” His own hands scrabbled to undo his belt buckle, then reached around behind him to undo Scott’s blindly. “You are right about one thing.” He twisted in Scott’s arms and surged up to claim the man’s mouth. “You are mine tonight.” With a jerk of his hands, he yanked Scott’s belt out of the loops and tossed it away, then unbuttoned the trousers and dropped to his knees to undo Scott’s bootlaces. “All mine.”

“Too much to ask for you to suck on me a bit?” Scott murmured playfully.

John stared up at him. “Yeah, because if I suck you, then you’re gonna end up fucking me because I love your cock.” Scott snorted, and John smirked, then shook his head. “I don’t want that right now.” He jerked his head back down. “Sorry, I need something different tonight.”

“I know.” Scott brushed his fingers through John’s short blond hair. “I know, love, and you’re going to have that. I promise. I’ll finish with my boots. You worry about yours.”

John pushed off his knees with a grunt, and landed on his rear on the floor, setting his attention to his desert boots as Scott went to one knee to finish what the other man had started. They both managed to get their boots and socks and trousers off, tossing them to one side and meeting in the middle once again, mouths joining together in nothing more than heated pushes of tongues and great biting lunges that left little room for something as kind and soft as a kiss. They took as much as they could from each other, shoving at half undone camouflage and pulling at under-armor tees to bare muscular torsos, the exposed skin already shining with a light layer of sweat from the heat of the desert. John’s mouth moved down, mouthing at Scott’s jawline, tongue tracing down the rigid tendon of his neck, nipping hard at the skin pulsing with each beat of Scott’s racing heart. His hands dug into the hard muscles of Scott’s back, fingers scratching along the skin there, leaving white trails that immediately faded to dusky red. The man in his arms growled and moaned at the sting and dropped his head to John’s, his lips pressing into John’s scalp.

“Oh, God, yes. That feels...oh, shit. You are fucking brilliant, Watson.”

With one more bite to the roll of hard muscle at Scott’s shoulder, John surged to his feet, staggering a bit on the dusty ground. “Fuck. Scott. Bed, now, damn it.” He pulled at his pants, trying to get his mind past _hot desert sand sweat blood want **mine**_ so that he could maneuver out of these fucking - A sharp _snkt_ got his attention long enough to register knife before his pants were gone. He whirled around, heart pounding danger who’s in the room enemy to find Scott standing, naked, _gloriously fucking golden fucking man_ , a pocket knife in his hand. John’s brain short-circuited at the positively frightening grin on the Marine’s face. He let go of the other side of his ruined pants, and they fell to the floor in a useless heap.

“That worked.” Scott flipped the blade closed. John swallowed hard. Really hard. Something was happening in his mind, something wicked. _Here be dragons, dragons with golden scales and sharp talons and pointy teeth._ He felt his lips split into a grin of their own. He couldn’t see what sort of face he was making, maybe it was his war face, he wasn’t sure; all he knew is that it sparked something in Scott, a fire lighting behind his eyes.

“Yes. Yes it did.” John blinked. Swallowed again. Stared at the knife. Looked up at Scott. “Bed. Get on that goddamned bed. Now.”

“Oh, fuck yes. Brilliant.” Scott tossed the knife off to one side, and John tracked the arc of the metal through the air with only his eyes, watching it land next to the wall. He memorised the position and turned his eyes to the sprawled man on his cot. Scott was dirty and sweaty and very obviously aroused, his prick standing against his stomach and twitching with every beat of the Marine’s heart, and John is helplessly drawn to this. He moved to the bed and crawled on top of the naked man, caging him in with knees at hips and hands fisting the scratchy blankets on either side of Scott’s head. John dipped his head down, taking a moment to breath in the scent that is steadily becoming something that sparks a response in his whole body like a fucking Pavlovian hat-trick. Scott rolls his spine, pushing against the bed with his arms to nip at John’s ear and neck, licking a path along his trapezius and sucking a livid mark there as he moved along the sharp line of John’s shoulder. John hummed in pleasure, blinking and breathing and getting ridiculously aroused by the attention. Scott dropped back down so he could ghost his fingers along John’s rib cage, bumping along his obliques and pressing hard into the thick cords of tense muscles of John’s back. A knot moved, and John hissed with the sharp bite of not-quite-pain. Scott’s fingers froze for a bare second, but John nodded quickly, dropping his head again to growl into Scott’s ear.

“Don’t you have more pressing matters to worry about than giving me a fucking massage, McIntyre?” He shifted his weight onto his right hand and took his throbbing prick into his left, squeezing firmly. A small bead of pre-come appeared at his slit, and he dipped his hips down to slide the head of his cock up the length of Scott’s. The man beneath him shivered and let out a shattered groan of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck me, Watson...you feel so _good_...”

“Damn right I do.” John’s voice rumbled out on the lower registers, roughened by his arousal. “Legs up, on my hips.” He pawed at the head of the bed, reaching for the tube of petroleum jelly he kept there for rough skin and rough nights by himself. Scott obeyed him, sliding his legs along the insides of John’s thighs and out, angling them up along the sharp curve of his hip bones. John groaned deeply as the darkly male scent that was Scott’s and Scott’s alone grew sharper, more defined and heady. “Oh, Jesus, you are _perfect_ , so perfect.”

Scott chuckled and brought one hand up to fist himself and the other to stroke John, brushing his fingertips against his balls and perineum. “Fuckin’ want you, Watson, want you _in me,_ want your cock in my arse, want to feel you deep inside -”

 _“Christ!”_ John growled, leaving the jelly laying by Scott’s hip, and nipped roughly at Scott’s throat, leaving little red marks that made the man roll his hips and grind out curses. John worked his way down, his sweat-damp skin sliding against Scott’s legs as he mouthed and licked and nipped his way down the man’s chest, pausing to take each tight nipple into his mouth to bite and suckle at. Scott’s hands left their cocks and fisted into John’s hair, and he arched his back to bring him into more contact with John’s mouth. John hummed and nosed at Scott’s skin, leaving off the nipple to continue his path over tight abdominal muscles, obliques, mouthing and biting the hard roll of Scott’s iliac crest. Scott shifted his hips beneath John’s chest, and John lifted up so that Scott could hook his legs over John’s shoulders, then pull one up until the knee pressed against his chest. John didn’t think he could get any harder or any more aroused than he was right at that moment, until his friend opened his pretty mouth.

“Come on Watson, open me up. Open me up with your tongue, love. Use your mouth on me and make me lose my mind.”

“Oh, Jesus _fucking_ Christ...” John muttered, his whole body thrumming with pure lust, and ran his lips and tongue along the inside of Scott’s other knee, setting his teeth lightly into the tendon at the side. “Oh, you are a treat, McIntyre, a gorgeous fucking treat.” He trailed his mouth along the femoral artery, following the throbbing vessel up to Scott’s hot groin, and nosed at the base of his prick. His nerves thrummed and sparked at the utterly debauched growl that rumbled out of Scott’s chest, his hands spasming where they held tightly to his bent knee and at John’s shoulder. He licked wetly up along the shaft, pressing it hard against the line of hair leading up Scott’s lower belly. The growl turned into a shivery moan, and tremors rocked through the man beneath him.

“Oh, shit, Watson. _Holy shit_ , you are good at this.” Scott dropped his head back against the sheets and moaned again. John chuckled against his belly and traced a path down the underside of Scott’s prick.

John hummed happily and pinned the man’s hips down with one large forearm. He ducked his head down under Scott’s balls to lick a wet stripe over his tight hole, pressing his nose into Scott’s perineum and inhaling. Scott jerked under his hands, panting and gasping John’s name frantically. His brain lit up, and he growled against his friend’s sensitive skin. “Oh, I’m going to take you apart, I’m going to ruin you - “ His mind flashed back to the knife, where it lay in the corner by the bed. No. Not like that. He nosed against the skin again and dug his short nails into Scott’s hip, hard enough to turn the blushed skin white, and Scott groaned loudly.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, shit -” Scott sucked in a ragged breath and brought his other leg up and rolled his spine, angling himself so that John had better access to him. “You son of a bitch, don’t make me beg for it, just fuckin’ do it!”

“Hnng - alright, God, just give me a -” John’s protest cut short as Scott’s large hand left his shoulder and gripped into his short hair again.

“Don’t make me beg.”

John looked up, saw a strange light twinkling in his friend’s eyes, and smirked. Scott returned the grin.

John dragged his tongue over Scott again, and Scott bucked his hips up into the fleeting contact. “Oh, God.” Scott’s voice turned feral and dark. “Fuck, _fuck_ you Watson, you son of a -” He rolled his hips again, and John darted his tongue out to flick it against his hole, but nothing else. Scott whined in frustration, and rocked himself against John’s forearm, his cock sliding wetly along John’s rough skin. “Oh, God, this feels so good, fuck, you are going to _kill me, Watson_.” His breath whined out of him, and he threw his hands back above his head and gripped the covers with desperation. “God damn it. Damn it...”

John shifted one hand up to wrap it around Scott’s throbbing cock, and stroked it once, twice, three times before letting go again, and Scott bit back an even louder groan.

“Oh, come on, fuckin’ hell, Watson...touch me, damn it!”

“What do we say?” John felt the grin spread over his face, felt it crinkle his eyes and pull at his reddened, wet lips.

“Fuck you.” The words held no venom, only lusty desperation.

“Nope.” John chuckled and swiped his tongue lightly over Scott again, savoring the twitch of his prick and the moans that escaped Scott’s open mouth.

“Oh, fuck me, please, damn it, fuckin... _do it!_ ” Scott dragged in a breath. “Please.”

“Heh. That didn’t take long.” Before Scott could respond, John ducked back down and pressed his tongue against the head of Scott’s cock, and the man let out a lusty groan and bucked up into John’s mouth. John let the head slip past his teeth and bump against his palate, and he wrapped his lips around Scott’s prick, feeling the velvety slide of the foreskin against the sensitive skin just inside his mouth. Scott didn’t shut up, but what was once words were now barely even consonants bit out between near sobs and groans. John closed his eyes and swirled his tongue around, dipping the tip in between the foreskin and the shaft, playing around with sensations. Scott’s hand tightened in John’s hair, and John took that as a cue to go to town, as it were. He worked up as much spit as he could to smooth the way, and then pushed his mouth down, as far as he could, until the head of Scott’s cock hit the back of his throat. What was left he wrapped his right hand around, squeezing just enough to make Scott squirm beneath him.

“Good LORD, Watson. Fuck!”

John hummed and started moving his head, snaking his tongue along the hard shaft filling his mouth as he sucked. He sent his right hand on a mission to find where he’d put the jelly - _oh, hip, right_ \- and snatched it up, flipping the top open and pushing to his knees. Scott rolled his spine, and brought both legs to his chest. John had to take his mouth off of him, but it was fine, really, because to see his friend spread out like this - his breath caught in his chest on a fiery hot wave of need that slammed into him. And when Scott hooked his hand under his left knee and pulled it further to the side, nearly to his shoulder, and winked at John - “Jesus fucking CHRIST, Scott, you devildog!” John could honestly say he was actually drooling now, and he looked down at Scott’s little dusky pink hole and grinned. “You wanted me to open you up, yeah?”

“Oh.” Scott grunted, his voice rough. “God, yes, Watson, fuckin’ -” His prick twitched in answer as well, and John’s throbbed in sympathy - or impatience, if a cock could be impatient.

John bent down, keeping the jelly in plain view this time, and put the saliva to good use. He pressed his tongue against the little bud, circled it, caressed it. Scott moaned above him, locking one hand into John’s hair and one into the sheets above his head, and shivered. His legs flexed as he rolled his hips, trying to get as much of John’s tongue on him, in him, as possible. John hummed against him and licked a stripe up Scott’s perineum to his balls, and nuzzled the sac with care. “God, you’re so full. You want this, don’t you, love?”

 _“Hnnng_ -guh-fuck, Wa -Watson!” Scott groaned as John turned his face into his inner thigh and nipped lightly at the muscle there. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

“Didn’t plan on it.” John smiled against his skin and moved back down, licking a path down to Scott’s hole again, and this time he stiffened his tongue and pressed in with the tip. Scott keened and growled and rolled his hips again, and he opened for John. John could feel the muscles relax for him, and he pressed in further with his tongue, wiggling and getting Scott nice and wet and loose. He reached for the tube of jelly again and squeezed some out onto his fingers. He slicked up two fingers to the webbing, and his thumb too, then backed off. The disapproving growl that reverberated through Scott’s bones made John chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

“You aren’t - oh! _OH!_ ” Scott sucked in a breath as John’s index finger breached him, stretching him more than tonguing him did. “Oh, fuck that feels amazing, hmmm, good, this is _gooooood...”_

John chortled and leaned forward to take Scott into his mouth again, sucking lightly at the top of his prick, savoring the taste of the pre-come leaking out of the slit. Scott shook beneath him, humming and moaning prettily as John started fucking him with his finger, wriggling it and dragging it out, then pressing back in. John moved his mouth down, barely setting his teeth against the veins of his shaft and pressing the flat of his tongue along the underside, slicking that up too. He sucked the whole thing back down when he pressed another finger in along the first, barely stopping the rhythm, knowing that Scott would love the burn of the extra, unexpected stretch. Judging by the high-pitched gasp and longer groan, he did. John used his other hand to squeeze out another strip of jelly and warmed it up in his fist, then wrapped that hand around his throbbing prick, groaning around Scott’s prick at the blessed sensation of something on his cock. Scott jerked and pulled at John’s hair, and John immediately pulled his mouth off him.

“Oh, thank fuck. Close, too fucking close, _damn it_ you are too good at this!”

“Do you want me to stop...” John paused his fingers to make his point. Scott took a deep breath and shook his head after a moment.

“No, I’m good there. Just...too much. God, you suck cock like - “

“Like Sue?”

If Scott blushed anymore, he’d turn into Hellboy. “Fuck yeah. Just like her.”

“Yeah, who do you think taught me how?” John resumed moving his hand, and Scott threw his head back on a groan. His prick, dark with arousal and almost painful-looking, twitched with every beat of his pounding heart.

“Think you’re ready for another finger?” John figured he’d better ask.

Scott threw his arm over his eyes. “Uh... _god, fuck_...I don’t know. Feels too good...fuck.” He shook his head. “Oh, _fuck..._ ”

“Okay, then?” John slowed down, and ducked his head down to lick lightly at the skin stretched around his fingers, then a bit harder as Scott rocked his hips again.

“Oh, fuck yes, Bulldog. Fuckin’ _grand_. Get in me.”  

John’s prick throbbed again, and that decided him. He withdrew his fingers, drawing a disapproving hiss from Scott, and shifted position so that he could line himself up with Scott’s loose arse. He gripped himself at the base and pushed - slowly - into that tight, slick heat. His eyes rolled back on a tidal rush of pure pleasure as Scott groaned, the chest deep sound reverberating through his entire body until John could fucking feel it around his cock. He couldn’t stop the answering growl from rumbling out of himself. He dropped his hand and pushed the rest of the way it, not pausing, waiting for the high-pitched keen that told him that Scott’s brain was overloading with sensations. When he heard it, he reached up to stroke Scott’s hair with one hand as the other found the other man’s hard prick. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt he was fully seated, and he rolled his hips once to test the slide.

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ fucking...good, _GOOD!_ ” Scott howled and twisted his hands in the scratchy bedsheets, and John fisted his hand into Scott’s hair and pulled hard. Scott whined and followed John’s unspoken command, arching his head back so that his neck was fully exposed. John leaned up, nearly bending Scott in half, and licked at the salt-sand-sweet skin at his pulse point, relishing the triphammer beating of Scott’s heart. The artery throbbed hard under his tongue, and he pressed down on it as he rolled his hips again. He kept up his grip on Scott’s hair and hummed in approval as Scott’s trembling hand finally found its way up to his own head and scrabbled for purchase in his shorter hair. “John, you fuckin’- this feels so fucking _good,_ don’t stop...oh _God_ , fuck me already!”

John grinned against Scott’s throat, and bit hard at his trachea. Scott yelped, and John’s grin grew. “With pleasure.” With that, he palmed Scott’s prick and started to move, short hard thrusts mixed with long rolls that had Scott whimpering and moaning and biting at John’s shoulder. Sweat dripped off both of them, threatening to get into John’s eyes, and he squeezed them shut and dropped his head down to kiss Scott with every ounce of his being. Scott bit desperately at his lips, his tongue, anywhere he could reach. His hands stroked and gripped and kneaded and tightened painfully on John’s scalp and side as a wail ripped out of him.

“Oh, fuck, shit, fuck John I’m close, _I’m so fuckin’.._.God, I’m there, fuck, I’m _there,_ keep going, don’t fucking stop or I’ll kill you - Oh, _fuuuuuck_ \- ” The last word was dragged out as Scott fell into his orgasm. He twitched and spasmed around John’s cock and in John’s hand, gasping and stealing the air from John’s lungs as his eyes rolled back into his head and he mewled out what could have been John’s name. John wasn’t sure, because just moments after Scott’s lightning storm of pleasure turned into a gentle tidal roll of sensation, his own orgasm blindsided him. He nearly blacked out on the realisation that Scott’s hand was on his arse and playing with his arsehole, and the other was still grabbing for his hair.

[](971038)  
  
  


John woke up draped over Scott’s naked and warm body, sweaty and sated, with four kittens lined up on his spine, sound asleep and purring. A blanket covered his lower half, and he grunted with amusement. “God, I needed that.” His mind finally felt clear enough to think again. A rumbly chuckle rolled out of Scott.

“Yeah, you did. You really, really did.” Scott nuzzled the top of John’s head. “I’m really glad I was here for you. Knowing you, the nightmares might eat you alive tonight, or they might not. I didn’t want to take that chance, not with you. You are too important.”

“Aww, shucks.” John drawled. “You’re a purdy thing, y’know?” He brushed his fingers over Scott’s lips. “You sure do got a purdy mouth.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Scott laughed at John’s frankly horrid accent. “What is that even from?”

“Can’t remember. Brain melted from sex and heat. You are a furnace.” John smiled against Scott’s tanned skin. “I -”

John’s radio blared to life, calling a team to the choppers for an evac out of the Nawa-I-Barakzayi District...Scott curses. “Shit! That’s Fiddler’s Green.”

John’s already up and pulling his kit back on, half dressed and sharp-eyed, the next mission on his mind. “Marine base. US Marines.” He listened to the chatter on the radio that was now clipped on his armour, which he wore over his brown tee. “Insurgent attack. Dead and wounded.” He pressed the communicator as he hooked the comm to his ear. “This is Captain Watson. I acknowledge. I’ll have my team outbound in ten minutes. Over.”

Scott leaned back against the wall, bunching the blankets around his hips, the kittens huddled unhappily in his lap. “Be careful out there, John. I want you to meet my daughters.”

John turned from grabbing his battle pack, and gave a short nod. “Not gonna say goodbye, because I’ll be back.”

Scott nodded, solemn in the afterglow of sex. The door shut behind John, and Scott heaved out a sigh. Sarge butted his little head against his hand, and Scott scritched him behind the ears.

“They alway say that, don’t they, Sarge?”

“Mye.” Sarge’s meow was soft and sad-sounding.

“I know.” Scott looked at the door. “I miss him every time, too.”

 

 


End file.
